Soaring Smoke
by SoundsLikeLiar
Summary: Smokey is a loner who is used to taking care of himself and his younger sister. When a tragedy nearly ruins Smokey's life, he happens upon the cats of WindClan who reluctantly agree to let him join. Now the renamed Smokepaw must prove his loyalty or else.
1. Allegiances

**Soaring Smoke**

Smokey is a loner, who is used to living in the harsh wilderness and fending for himself, even though he's only eight moons old. Ever since his parents died, Smokey has had to take care of himself and his younger sister. But when a tragic accident occurs that shakes Smokey to his core, he flees from his temporary home and happens upon the Clan cats. He is grudgingly accepted into WindClan and now the renamed Smokepaw must prove to his new family that he is as loyal as a Clan born cat. But not everyone is going to make it easy for him.

**WindClan**

Leader: Fallenstar- mottled brown and white tom with large ears.

Deputy: Puddledrop- black she-cat with white ears and feet.

(Apprentice- Cherrypaw)

Medicine Cat: Cottonsky- white she-cat with hazel eyes.

(Apprentice- Breezepaw)

Warriors:

Whitefoot- dark brown tabby tom.

Heathersong- calico she-cat with green eyes.

(Apprentice- Webpaw)

Ravenwing- black, long-furred she-cat with amber eyes.

Brackenface- black and white tom.

(Apprentice- Bamboopaw)

Goldeye- gray tabby tom with amber eyes.

(Apprentice- Smokepaw)

Apprentices:

Cherrypaw- orange tabby she-cat.

Breezepaw- white tom with black splotches on his tail.

Webpaw- dark gray tabby tom with white feet.

Bamboopaw- tan she-cat with a pure white tail.

Smokepaw- black tom with a white spot on his chest.

Queens:

Silkshadow- blue-gray she-cat with green eyes.

(Mother of Brackenface's kits: Harekit, Yellowkit and Eggkit)

Elders:

Oatfield- light brown tabby tom.

Juniperpelt- white and black she-cat, retired queen.

**ThunderClan**

Leader: Swiftstar- thin black and white tom with green eyes.

Deputy: Ratfang- black tom with large front teeth.

Medicine Cat: Lightstripe- pale she-cat with amber eyes.

(Apprentice- Mangotail)

Warriors:

Ivytail- light gray she-cat with long legs.

(Apprentice- Mousepaw)

Jaguarheart- dark brown tabby tom.

(Apprentice- Palepaw)

Maplebark- light brown tabby she-cat with blue eyes.

Talontree- black tom with huge paws.

(Apprentice- Plumpaw)

Berrywhisker- tall she-cat with brown and black fur.

Apprentices:

Mangotail- light orange she-cat, training to become a medicine cat.

Mousepaw- light brown tom with hazel eyes.

Palepaw- light colored tom.

Plumpaw- calico she-cat with green eyes and a long tail.

Queens:

Littlenose- small black she-cat with a very pink nose.

(Mother of Talontree's kits: Mistykit and Meadowkit)

Jayfur- gray tabby with green eyes.

(Mother of Swiftstar's kits: Minnowkit, Tallkit and Rollingkit)

Elders: 

Ancientfur- oldest cat in ThunderClan, brown and white tom.

Wingflight- scrawny black she-cat.

Willowmist- calico she-cat with a broken paw.

**RiverClan**

Leader: Streamstar- black she-cat with blue eyes and a white tail.

(Apprentice- Shellpaw)

Deputy: Greeneye- brown tabby tom with bright green eyes.

Medicine Cat: Mossbelly- tan and white tom with a drooping eye.

Warriors:

Blizzardpelt- white she-cat with blue eyes.

(Apprentice- Vinepaw)

Swamprain- brown tom with a white underbelly.

(Apprentice- Tigerpaw)

Snaketooth- black tom with a white throat.

Redstorm- dark orange tom with green eyes.

(Apprentice- Hawkpaw)

Cloudysky- creamy furred she-cat.

(Apprentice- Floodpaw)

Gorsemask- brown tabby tom with a white face and tail.

Apprentices:

Shellpaw- black and white she-cat with pearly whiskers.

Vinepaw- gray tabby tom with amber eyes.

Tigerpaw- light brown tom with black stripes down his back.

Hawkpaw- calico she-cat with blue eyes.

Floodpaw- white tom with green eyes.

Queens:

Loudpurr- heavy-set she-cat with tabby brown fur.

(Mother of Gorsemask's kits: Umberkit, Strongkit, Fishkit and Sunkit)

Elders:

Onefoot- a gnarled old tom with one white foot.

Patchedfur- white and black she-cat.

**ShadowClan**

Leader: Darkstar- black tom with hazel eyes and sharp ears.

Deputy: Crowcall- black tom with a white underbelly.

Medicine Cat: Brownthroat- dark brown tabby tom.

(Apprentice- Loudpaw)

Warriors:

Logstump- brown tom with gray eyes.

(Apprentice- Brightpaw)

Eagleclaw- white tom with unusually long claws.

(Apprentice- Rabbitpaw)

Climbingcloud- brown tabby she-cat with white spots.

Shadewing- dark gray tabby she-cat with blue eyes.

(Apprentice- Sootypaw)

Tumbleleaf- small brown and tan tom.

Apprentices:

Loudpaw- heavy, tall tom with black fur.

Brightpaw- white she-cat with hazel eyes.

Rabbitpaw- light brown tabby she-cat.

Sootypaw- light gray tom with piercing amber eyes.

Queens:

Waterflower- gray and white she-cat.

(Mother of Crowcall's kits: Silverkit, Mountainkit and Bluekit)

Twigwhisker- brown tabby with blue eyes.

(Mother of Tumbleleaf's kits: Dustkit and Firekit)

Elders:

Stripedtail- calico she-cat with a mottled tail.

Beefur- black and white tom with numerous bee stings.

Rockface- dark gray tabby tom.


	2. Prologue

**Prologue **

The mist was sleepily spread out over the open moors; the glowing shine of the moon echoed across the bare hills and peeped into the thick trees of the forest. A cluster of stars in the deep blue sky glittered innocently down upon the arching river that flowed through the hills and into the shallower path through the woods.

A white cat with gleaming hazel eyes quietly tiptoed into a small dip in the ground on top of one of the hills. A smaller white cat with a black tail followed her, his head low to the ground. The two cats pushed past the gorse and bracken that surrounded the inclination in the earth and padded past the sleeping cats lying out in the open, their faces turned towards the sky.

"Come quickly now," mouthed the white she-cat as they scurried towards a flat rock on the far side of the clearing. A brown and white tom with unnaturally large ears was lying awake in the shelter of the rock, his bright amber eyes staring at the approaching cats, unblinking.

"What news from StarClan?" the tomcat asked as the two white cats reached his bed of flattened moss.

The white she-cat gazed at him steadily. "StarClan has sent Breezepaw a prophecy," she murmured, glancing at the smaller cat.

Breezepaw looked up, moonlight reflecting on his pure pelt. His black speckled tail was waving gently. The other tom stared at Breezepaw, amazement clouding his eyes.

"What did StarClan say?"

Breezepaw looked at the she-cat for reassurance. She nodded. "Go ahead."

"Well," Breezepaw said, taking a deep breath of fresh air, "Cottonsky and I went to the Moonrock for my medicine cat's apprenticeship ceremony and StarClan spoke to me almost immediately."

Cottonsky laid her soft white tail on Breezepaw's back comfortingly. The apprentice gulped, stared at the brown and white tom and continued.

"A huge tom came to me in my dream. He said his name was Windstar and he founded our clan. Then he told me a riddle or something. He said: 'A wandering wisp of smoke will bring three from different Clans together and they will bring the dawn and stop the blood.' I don't know what it means though."

"Fallenstar, this is the first prophecy WindClan has received for years. It should not be taken lightly," Cottonsky said urgently, her hazel eyes flashing.

Fallenstar nodded his head seriously, considering the medicine cat's words.

"What do you think it means?" the Clan leader said, his head turned towards Cottonsky.

The pearly white cat shrugged, her ears twitching. "I don't know. It seems to be saying that three cats will join together from three Clans and…from there it's blurry."

The three cats stood silently for a moment, a soft flurry of air brushing through their pelts. The sky was the color of the bottom of a river, dotted with shells of stars. It was a chilly night; leaf-fall would be ending soon and the bitter coldness of leafbare would soon cover WindClan and the forest.

Cottonsky's fur ruffled in the crisp air, her eyes pensive. Breezepaw looked uncertain and uncomfortable standing next to the regal-looking Fallenstar.

"I believe only time will tell," Cottonsky finally sighed. "It's impossible to figure out StarClan's prophecy's at once. We will have to wait."

Fallenstar dipped his head curtly in agreement. "Very well. You and Breezepaw should get to sleep. You've had a long night."

"Thank you Fallenstar," Breezepaw said, relieved. He and Cottonsky turned away from the leader and trotted off towards their own beds.

Fallenstar watched them go, his mind spinning, reeling over the prophecy. He was a young leader, he had never even heard another prophecy before in his life. He was at a loss at what to do.

"I believe only time will tell…" Cottonsky's words swam back to him gently. He sighed. She was right. The WindClan leader lay back down on his nest of moss and resignedly shut his eyes, ready to wait for a sign, an omen, an indication, anything.

As Fallenstar drifted into sleep, the bright stars dappled the sky and smiled down upon the WindClan camp.


	3. Chapter 1: The Loner Siblings

**Chapter 1: The Loner Siblings **

Smokey crept along the forest floor, skirting past a group of high rocks, following his prey's scent carefully. His black pelt blended in perfectly with the dark earth and dead twigs on the ground. The only noticeable patch of fur on his body was a white dot on his chest, hidden by the lack of light in the woods. Silently stalking the same prey next to him was his sister, Thistle, a dark gray cat, her fur prickling with excitement.

Smokey opened his mouth slightly, tasting the air for the scent of the rabbit.

"It's over there," whispered Thistle, nodding her head towards a small clearing.

Smokey squinted, looking for his quarry. The plump rabbit was poised in the middle of the clearing, its ears straight up in the air, its eyes wide and frightened. It knew Smokey and Thistle were behind it.

Thistle moved to the side of the clearing, inching away from Smokey. Soon she was on the opposite side of the clearing. Smokey could barely see her through the low bushes and the dim light. Her bright eyes shone through the branches and seemed to smile slyly at him. Smokey grinned. The rabbit hadn't noticed Thistle moving through the undergrowth. It was still in the center of the clearing, twitching nervously.

Smokey raised his tail in the air and flicked it once, towards the rabbit. He saw his sister's eyes blink, a signal that she understood his motive.

Smokey instantly jumped out from the trees and flung himself at the rabbit, hissing loudly. The rabbit, startled and terrified turned away from Smokey and pelted across the clearing, straight towards where Thistle was hiding in the bushes. Smokey ran after the rabbit and swerved around it as Thistle leapt from her hiding place and snatched at the rabbit. The poor creature had no chance: it ran right into the she-cat's jaws. Thistle clamped down triumphantly and then trotted over to where Smokey was sitting, waiting for her. He smiled as his sister dropped the dead rabbit at his feet.

"Good teamwork," he commented, glancing at the well-fed rabbit.

"No creature in this forest is safe from us," Thistle replied, rubbing her muzzle against her brother's flank warmly.

"Let's get this back to the den. We'll eat it there," Smokey said, nudging the fresh-kill. Thistle nodded and grasped the rabbit with her sharp teeth. Smokey rose to his feet and led his sister away from the little clearing, through the woods.

It was almost sun-high but the thick expanse of trees above them blocked out the majority of the sun's beams, making the forest floor mottled with different earthy tones. The two cats traveled along the edge of the road where the Twolegs would ride in their machines. (Smokey's father had told him that the Twolegs called these machines 'cars'.)

Smokey padded through the bramble and dead leaves, the cool autumn air chilling his bones. He and Thistle clambered over a fallen log and finally arrived at a large oak tree. Its roots were big and starting to come up from the ground, creating a perfect little den underneath the shelter of the tree. Smokey squeezed in through the roots and entered the warm dry den he and his sister had been sharing for the past six moons. When Smokey was only two moons old, his parents, Hickory and Lilac, had disappeared. Smokey and Thistle had never found the bodies but there was no doubt in their minds that their parents were dead. The forest in which they lived was dangerous. There were rumors of shadowy cats that lived in the heart of the woods and killed trespassers. Twolegs with guns were also seen frequently, since they lived by their carrion place.

Since his parent's deaths, Smokey had gotten used to taking care of Thistle and himself. For his eight moons, he was very mature. He had to be.

"Come on Smokey, let's eat!" Thistle cried, jerking Smokey out of his thoughts. He smiled fondly at his sister as she bent down over the rabbit and started to tear into it hungrily.

Smokey joined her on the floor and he too began to eat, his belly rumbling.

"We're lucky we found such a healthy and fat rabbit to eat," Smokey said through his food, "most of the prey around here is getting thinner from winter approaching."

Thistle didn't answer, she was too busy tucking into the fresh-kill.

When the two cats had finished eating, Smokey took the remains of the rabbit out of their den and quickly dug a hole in the ground, pushing the leftovers inside the hole and then covering it. He did this all with surprising speed; he knew if he left the rabbit's stench in the open for too long a fox or a badger would come and steal it.

Smokey softly walked over to the trees surrounded their den of roots and marked his territory swiftly, spraying every tree and rock around them. When he was done with this task he returned to their den and called for Thistle.

"Let's go to the stream," he said. "We could try and catch another fish."

Thistle had unexpectedly caught a wriggling, slimy fish the other day and she had proudly brought it back to her brother.

She sprung to her feet and gave her coat a quick lick, slicking down her gray fur.

"Okay," she said. "But I doubt you'll be able to catch anything with those big clumsy paws of yours," Thistle teased, batting at Smokey's black feet.

Smokey rolled his eyes at his sister and darted out of the den.

"Last one there is a rabid skunk!" he called as he ran into the trees, following the sound of the bubbling from the tiny stream. Thistle ran after him, meowing in protest.

Smokey smiled as he rushed past bushes and tree trunks.

He and his sister didn't have an ideal life, but it wasn't half-bad either.

xxx

Smokey and Thistle returned to their den with their mouths full of prey. They hadn't been able to catch a single fish but they had managed to stalk and kill two mice and a sparrow.

"This is great," Thistle said through her mouth full of feathers, "we won't have to go hunting tomorrow."

Smokey flicked his tail at her happily. Together the two cats made a great hunting team. Smokey would scare the prey and Thistle would catch it. If Thistle missed the fleeing animal, Smokey would double back and finish the creature off. They almost always caught their prey.

Once again, Thistle and Smokey crawled into their den with their fresh-kill, their eyes bright with pride and hunger.

"Do you think our luck with all this prey will hold out through the winter?" Thistle asked as she settled down on her mossy bed.

"It better not," said a cold voice from outside their den. Smokey and Thistle jumped and turned in fright.

Smokey gasped at the sight that befell his eyes and then glanced at Thistle.

They were in trouble.


	4. Chapter 2: Thistle's Mistake

**Chapter 2: Thistle's Mistake **

A small group of ragged cats were standing in front of the tree's roots, glaring at the siblings. Smokey wriggled out of the den and stood between the cats and his sister, growling. The cat that had spoken was a white tom with glitteringly long claws. Standing next to him was a black cat with a white underbelly, a dark gray tabby and a smaller lighter gray tom.

"Who are you? What do you want?" demanded Smokey, hissing.

He was putting on a big show of bravado, his fur was puffed out and his back was arched but he was scared. He and Thistle were outnumbered greatly: it was four to two and Thistle wasn't a good fighter.

"Who are we?" the white tom growled. "We are ShadowClan cats: this is OUR territory. We rule this forest."

"Eagleclaw, calm down," the dark gray she-cat said. Her voice was surprisingly deep. She turned her attention to Smokey, who was breathing heavily now. "My name is Shadewing. This is my apprentice Sootypaw. And this is our Clan's deputy, Crowcall."

Smokey was utterly bemused. He had no idea what this cat was talking about. A Clan? And what was with those weird names?

"I've never heard of ShadowClan," came Thistle's voice as she climbed out of the den and went to stand next to her brother. Smokey looked at Thistle nervously. He didn't want his sister to get hurt.

"Never heard of ShadowClan?" asked the black tom named Crowcall incredulously.

"Me and my brother Smokey have lived here since we were born. We have as much rights to this land as you do," Thistle continued.

Smokey felt a growing feeling of unease twisting in his belly. Thistle shouldn't argue with these cats; Smokey could tell they weren't any old housecats.

"Well we know who they are now," Eagleclaw said tartly. "They're loners. We should just kill them. They don't deserve to live if they do dumb to join a Clan."

Smokey spat at the white tom, his terror mounting. He could tell the other cat smelled his fear-scent. Eagleclaw bared his teeth in a grin.

"We can't kill them," the cat called Shadewing said. She seemed to be appealing to the sturdy black tom, Crowcall. "The gray one is barely six moons."

Crowcall's eyes darted over the two cats and they rested on Thistle's defiant glare.

"Is it only the two of you who live here?" he asked. At the same time he sniffed the air around the den, searching for scents.

"Yes," replied Smokey immediately. hoping to get on this cat's good side. Maybe they could get out of here safely… "Our parents died many moons ago."

"Crowcall! You can't be thinking of letting them stay!" exclaimed Eagleclaw, his eyes wide. "Look at all the prey they've already wasted. And leafbare is coming!"

"What's leafbare?" questioned Thistle.

Smokey nudged his sister's shoulder, trying to get her to be quiet.

"Leafbare? How do you not know what leafbare is?" asked the cat Shadewing had called an 'apprentice.'

"Leafbare is when the days get cold and it snows and prey becomes hard to find," Shadewing replied, cuffing her apprentice on the head.

"Oh you mean winter?" said Thistle.

The other cats looked confused. Smokey felt an urgent need to escape rise in his chest.

"It's not important," he said, stepping on Thistle's foot. "We'll stop catching so much prey if you want us to. We don't want to fight."

Crowcall looked appraisingly at Smokey and opened his mouth as if to say something, but he was cut off by Thistle's irate meow.

"We will not stop hunting. Smokey, why would you promise that?" she said angrily. "I don't see why we can't live here together."

"See! We cannot let these cats live in OUR territory," Eagleclaw hissed at Crowcall. The apprentice, Sootypaw, nodded his head. Shadewing looked torn.

"If you let these cats live here, I will notify Darkstar and I doubt he'll be happy," Eagleclaw continued. Crowcall suddenly looked afraid.

"You're right Eagleclaw. They must go," he said. Eagleclaw smirked as he began to approach the two cats. Smokey saw in horror that all four cat's claws were unsheathed now.

"We'll fight you and win," Thistle declared, her own claws dangerously glittering.

'NO!" Smokey suddenly cried, stepping in front of his sister. "We'll go. You don't have to fight us."

Shadewing looked relieved; she instantly retracted her claws.

"At least he's not completely stupid," spat Eagleclaw, "there's no way you could beat us."

"Smokey!" Thistle hissed impatiently.

"We can't win. There's too many of them and they probably know how to fight better than us. We don't have a chance. If we leave now, we can get out of this alive," Smokey whispered back at Thistle.

His sister looked shocked and angry for a moment, but then her shoulders sagged as the fight went out of her. "Okay, you're right," she said. "We'll go."

Smokey turned back to the ShadowClan cats and dipped his head to them, trying not to show his anxiety. Then he grasped Thistle by the scruff of her neck and hauled her away from the other cats. The two siblings slipped in the trees around their den and headed off north. Smokey was starting to breathe properly when he heard a snarl from behind them. He turned just in time to see Eagleclaw and Crowcall charging at them.

"This way we'll make sure you leave," yelled Eagleclaw, his teeth bared at them.

"Run!" Smokey commanded, rushing forwards besides Thistle.

His sister's fear-scent was suddenly as clear as a dying rabbit's distress call. Thistle's legs were flashing, her body a dark blur as she sped away from the other cats. Smokey, panting hard, chased after, trying to catch up. The sounds of the ShadowClan cats were growing fainter as they ran faster. Smokey and Thistle had always been swift cats, dashing around to catch their prey. But now they were the hunted.

Smokey suddenly realized that they were running towards the Twoleg's road, the one where they rode in their machines. Thistle had vanished, running too fast for him to follow. The roar of a passing car made Smokey's fur stand up. The air become clogged with smog from the car. Smokey ran on, blindly, trying to find Thistle.

"Thistle! Thistle wait! We're right by the road, stop running!" he called out, coughing on the smoke from the cars. Suddenly he felt pavement under his paws and stopped dead.

"Thistle?"

The exhaust cleared as Smokey stared out at the road. A small gray lump was lying in the middle of the road. Smokey felt his heart drop into his stomach. He glanced down the road, checking for cars, then he stepped out and darted over to where the clump of fur was lying still.

It was Thistle.

His beautiful, strong, fast sister was stretched out in the center of the road. Her head was twisted at an odd angle and her eyes stared, unseeing. Blood was trickling down her back from an open gash. Smokey figured she'd run out, blinded by the car's fumes, and thrown herself directly in the path of another car.

"Smokey…" came the rough whisper of Thistle's voice. Smokey looked down at his sister.

"Thistle, oh Thistle. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

Smokey felt himself choking with tears as he gazed at Thistle's glassy eyes.

"Not your fault…I love you…Smokey…goodbye." Thistle's eyes glazed over and finally shut. Her chest heaved one last time and then she was still.

"No, Thistle, Thistle. Thistle!" Smokey cried, prodding his sister's body with his paw. She didn't move. Smokey looked at the sky and the rapidly sinking sun and yowled.

She was dead.


	5. Chapter 3: What the Future Holds

**Chapter 3: What the Future Holds**

Smokey heard the car coming but he didn't care. Let it run me over too, he thought, thinking of Thistle. He closed his eyes and pressed his warm pelt against Thistle's slowly cooling one. The rumbling of the car was getting closer and closer. Smokey tensed his body, readying for the hit.

"You mouse brain! Get off of the Thunderpath!"

A ball of fur crashed into Smokey. He felt sharp teeth grip his neck and yank him off the road on to the safety of the grass. Smokey lay still on the soft ground, his eyes still squeezed shut, as if he could block out the image of Thistle's twisted body lying on the hard pavement.

He could hear voices around, muttering to each other.

"Hey, cat, are you okay? You didn't get hit by the monster, you're safe now," the same voice said.

Smokey slowly opened his eyes and looked up at the cats surrounding him. They were all very thin and wiry, with long legs and bright eyes. The cat nearest to him had gray tabby fur and was staring at Smokey with concern. Two black cats, one with white ears and feet and one with long, tangled fur were standing around him. A fourth cat was dragging Thistle's body to the side of the road. Smokey's stomach lurched and he turned on his side, throwing up. The gray cat took a step back.

"Let's take him back to camp," he said.

One of the black cats looked frustrated. "No way. He's not our responsibility. We saved him from that monster, that's enough," she said.

"He's sick. Come on, let's just get Cottonsky to check him out," the gray cat responded.

Smokey rolled on his back, done throwing up, and stared at the sky. The clouds were tinted with pink and blue; the heavy sun was sinking into the forest now. Smokey felt a soft breeze ruffle his fur and face. The cats continued talking above him but Smokey wasn't listening. He wondered where Thistle was now. Was she with their parents? Smokey hoped she was happy. His throat clenched and he gritted his teeth. The pain of losing Thistle was striking the tomcat like a lightening bolt.

"Help him up. Oh Ravenwing, stop whining. He's not in any shape to attack our camp. He's obviously all by himself. Now go help Webpaw."

Smokey felt himself being heaved to his feet. He balanced precariously for a moment and then turned his head towards Thistle's body. The fourth cat, a calico she-cat with green eyes, was hovering over his sister's body, her eyes narrowed.

"Thistle, I won't go without her," Smokey said, his voice shaking unevenly.

The black cat with white ears nodded at the calico cat and she dipped her head, clutching Thistle's scruff in her mouth. Smokey followed the gray tabby, not caring where he was going. Thistle was gone and everything was wrong.

xxx

The strange procession of cats trailed across rolling hills and moors until they at last reached a hill where the ground was shallow. Gorse and bracken made up a wall that covered the boundaries of the camp. Inside the dip in the ground was a clear area. Smokey couldn't help widening his eyes with surprise at the amount of cats in the vicinity. He had never seen so many cats at once, in one place. And what was even more strange was that none of them were fighting each other.

The gray cat led Smokey over to a wide rock that was split down the middle. Smokey felt the other cat's eyes watching him as he entered the cool den made by the split in the rock. The den was dimly lit and blissfully quiet. A white cat with hazel eyes was standing in the center of the den.

"Webpaw? What's going on?" she asked the gray cat.

"We found this cat lying in the middle of the Thunderpath. He was with a dead she-cat. She was hit by a monster. He isn't hurt but he's a little…" Webpaw trailed off, looking hesitantly at the white cat. "We thought you could help him Cottonsky."

The white cat smiled sadly. "I'll see what I can do." Cottonsky turned to Smokey who was sitting listlessly on the floor, his eyes blankly staring ahead.

"What is your name?" she asked gently.

"Smokey."

"Smokey, Webpaw here is going to bury your friend outside our camp. You need to rest," Cottonsky said.

Smokey shook his head. "She is-she was my sister," he stammered.

Cottonsky glanced at Webpaw, pain in her eyes.

"Don't worry. We'll give her a proper burial."

Cottonsky turned and shuffled around her den, nosing through herbs and plants, some of which Smokey found familiar. Finally the she-cat pulled out a few tan seeds and pushed them towards Smokey.

"Eat these. They're called poppy seeds. They'll help you get over the shock and they'll put you to sleep. You should rest now," Cottonsky said.

Smokey, not really caring what she gave him to eat, obediently lapped up the seeds. Almost instantly he started feeling drowsy. Cottonsky led him over to a heap of moss where he collapsed and curled up. Smokey shut his eyes and was asleep in a second.

xxx

When Smokey awoke, he was momentarily confused. Where was he? Was Thistle okay? Then reality flooded into his mind and he remembered that he was alone. Thistle was lying dead, buried in the ground and he, Smokey, was in a strange camp with unfamiliar cats. He blinked rapidly, trying to get rid of his sleepiness. Smokey glanced around. He was stretched out on a pile of moss. Smokey, parched, drank thirstily from a small pool of water in the crevice of the rock wall. Herbs and plants of all kinds lined the stone walls, heaped in an organized fashion.

A scuffling from outside of the den made Smokey turn his head warily. The white she-cat entered the den, her eyes softening at the sight of Smokey.

"Ah. You're awake. How do you feel?" Cottonsky asked.

Smokey didn't answer her, a crushing weight of despair had just settled on his chest. Thistle was really dead. The sudden realization caused Smokey to let out a pitiful yowl of torment. Cottonsky looked sympathetically at Smokey.

"I'm sorry for your loss Smokey. Your sister is with StarClan now."

"What's StarClan?" asked Smokey, immediately becoming concerned. Was StarClan some kind of Twoleg place?

Cottonsky looked genuinely distressed now.

"You don't know about StarClan? Webpaw was right, you really are like a different species," Cottonsky murmured. "StarClan is the fifth Clan of the forest. They live above us, in the stars. They watch over us and protect us. When a cat dies, their spirit goes to live in StarClan."

Smokey cocked his head. "That sounds a lot like Dreamland," he said.

"You have different terms for life and death because of how you grew up," noted Cottonsky.

"What are these Clans everyone keeps talking about?" asked Smokey, trying to keep his mind off of Thistle.

"There are four Clans in the forest: ThunderClan, RiverClan, WindClan and ShadowClan. You are in WindClan's camp at the moment. Each Clan has its own territory and boundaries. Each Clan is made up of a hierarchy of cats. I'm WindClan's medicine cat. I take care of sick and injured cats and StarClan sends me messages and warnings," Cottonsky explained slowly. "The cats you met last night are called warriors. They defend our clan, hunt, and fight. Webpaw is an apprentice. He is training to become a warrior. Then we have the elders, the queens and the deputy. There is a leader for each Clan. WindClan's leader is Fallenstar. His deputy is Puddledrop; you met her last night too."

Smokey's head began to reel from the information. He had heard of these cats before but he had never seen them before last night and he didn't know that they had a whole system of living. No wonder those ShadowClan cats attacked them!

"So what's with your names?" Smokey asked. "They seem very confusing."

Cottonsky smiled a little. "When a cat is an apprentice, they take the name 'paw' until they become a warrior. If cat is a Clan leader, they take the name 'star.' And if a kitten is born, they take the name 'kit' until they get their apprentice name. It's not as complicated as it sounds."

"So that cat, Webpaw, his name will change?" inquired Smokey.

"Yes," Cottonsky nodded, "when he becomes a warrior in a few moons, he'll receive a new name. Like mine. I used to be called Cottonpaw, but now I'm Cottonsky."

Smokey bowed his head, understanding slightly. These Clan cats certainly had an odd way of living. They seemed to be making everything much harder and more complicated than it had to be.

"Now Smokey, Fallenstar, the Clan leader, would like to speak with you. Are you up to it?" Cottonsky asked. Smokey was reminded vaguely of his mother, asking him whether he felt strong enough to go out and catch dinner.

"Yes, I'm fine," Smokey said briskly, rising to his paws.

Cottonsky nodded at him and then slipped out of the den, motioning for Smokey to follow. The black tom squeezed out of the split rock and trailed after Cottonsky, ignoring the whispers from the cats lounging in the clearing.

"Why did the patrol bring him back?"

"Who IS he anyway?"

"I think he's a loner…"

Smokey kept his head low, staring at the ground. Finally the two cats came to a flattened rock. A white and brown cat was folded out on top of the rock, letting the sun warm his pelt. As Cottonsky and Smokey approached, the cat jumped from his perch and sat with his tail curled around his legs, waiting for them.

"Smokey, this is Fallenstar," Cottonsky said, nodding respectfully at the brown and white tom.

Smokey had enough experience with alpha males to know that this cat was used to attention and admiration. Smokey submissively dipped his head and flicked his ears at the other tom, then stood perfectly still. Cottonsky was looking at him curiously; he could see her hazel eyes glinting at his polite actions. Fallenstar also looked somewhat surprised.

"Smokey. I have heard from Cottonsky that you were found on the Thunderpath with your sister?" Fallenstar asked.

Smokey wordlessly nodded his head.

"Cottonsky has also told me that your sister, Thistle, died from being hit by a monster. I am very sorry. Were you two traveling through these lands?" the leader questioned.

At this Smokey looked up at Fallenstar, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. All these Clan cats thought the same thing: protect their land. Smokey knew that Fallenstar was worried that he and Thistle had been planning on living on WindClan land.

"No we weren't traveling. We were running. The cats from that other clan, ShadowClan, found us in their territory and chased us out," Smokey replied.

Suddenly, as if an avalanche had crashed into his face, Smokey realized Thistle's death could have been prevented.

"It was their fault," he whispered.

"What?" said Fallenstar.

"Those cats. They scared Thistle into running on the road. She was so afraid she forgot to look…" Smokey's heart was pounding now. A hot rage was building within him. Those ShadowClan cats would pay for what they did to his sister.

Fallenstar and Cottonsky glanced at one another, an inscrutable look passing through their eyes.

"Do you have any other family?" Fallenstar asked.

Smokey shook his head, his mind still whirling with anger.

"And how old are you?"

"Eight moons."

Fallenstar suddenly got to his feet. "Puddledrop! Come here," he called.

A black she-cat with white ears and feet appeared at Fallenstar's side, her eyes bright and shining. Smokey recognized her from the group of cats that had rescued him.

"Yes Fallenstar?"

"Smokey is eight moons old. Do you think he's young enough to train? Is there hope for him?" Fallenstar was behaving very strangely now, his tail was whipping back and forth with agitation and he began to pace up and down by the flat rock.

Puddledrop looked at Smokey, sizing him up. "He's strong. He already knows how to fight and hunt. I think all we would need to do is train him to become a warrior and follow the code. Goldeye could mentor him," she said.

Smokey felt alarm rising in him. What were they talking about?

Fallenstar nodded and then peered at Smokey. "Would you like to join WindClan?"

Smokey felt a jolt of surprise run down his spine. "What?"

"WindClan needs strong cats. I think you could make a good warrior. You have no place to go and we are offering you a home and a family," Fallenstar said.

Smokey looked unsure. He glanced over at Cottonsky, who nodded at him.

"Your sister would want you to be happy," Puddledrop said quietly, still staring at Smokey.

"If you join WindClan, there will be opportunities to fight ShadowClan cats. You can avenge your sister," Fallenstar said.

Cottonsky suddenly looked angry. She gave Fallenstar a sharp glance and then knelt down next to Smokey, who was seriously considering the leader's words.

"Do this for yourself," murmured Cottonsky.

Smokey turned and looked into the she-cat's deep hazel eyes.

"Alright. I'll join your Clan."


	6. Chapter 4: Smokey's Ceremony

**Chapter 4: Smokey's Ceremony **

It was evening. The open sky shone down on WindClan's camp peacefully, the shadows of stars began to show in wide expanse above them. Smokey was irresistibly reminded of the previous night when his sister died. Thistle's twisted and mangled body would pop up behind his eyes every time he closed them and Smokey was finding it hard to consider sleep.

At the moment he was standing on top of the flat rock, standing politely next to Fallenstar. The brown and white tom had instructed Smokey how to act during the apprentice ceremony and had then called the members of WindClan to join him by 'Flatrock.'

The cats who had been suspiciously watching Smokey earlier in the day were now all grouped around him, staring at him mercilessly, their eyes cutting into him like claws. A gray tom with white paws, who Smokey recognized as the apprentice named Webpaw, trotted over to Flatrock.

"Hey there Smokey!" he said cheerfully, smiling up at the nervous black tom, "I hear you're joining WindClan. That's great, we'll be in the same den! You're going to be an apprentice just like me!"

Smokey looked perplexed at Webpaw. He'd never met another cat that was so…friendly before. He had assumed that most of the WindClan cats would be like Crowcall or Eagleclaw. But Webpaw wasn't. And neither was Cottonsky, or Puddledrop or Fallenstar. Smokey hesitantly smiled back at Webpaw.

"Fallenstar said I would get a mentor. What is that?" asked Smokey, lowering his voice so the Clan leader couldn't hear him.

Webpaw mewed in delight. "I am going to love teaching you about the Clans," he laughed, "you're like a kit-no offence."

Smokey shrugged sheepishly; he knew that he didn't understand the customs of these cats at all. He also realized that if he was going to live in WindClan he needed to know what was proper and what wasn't.

"A mentor is a warrior who teaches, instructs and helps an apprentice. Your mentor will make you into a great warrior. My mentor's name is Heathersong; you met her last night. She was the calico cat," Webpaw explained.

Smokey blinked.

"You're way of living seems very complex," he said carefully, thinking about the names and the ceremonies and all the positions.

"It may seem that way to you because you're used to living like a loner but to us, it's a great way of life," Webpaw said patiently, "you'll get used to it. I bet you'll even like it better than living alone in the wilderness."

Smokey nodded reluctantly. He knew Webpaw was probably right. He joined WindClan for a number of reasons, but he mostly wanted to feel safe. After losing Thistle, Smokey didn't think he could go back to living on his own. WindClan was like a huge unit, a big family. Oddly enough, Smokey felt secure within the gorse walls of the camp.

I'll make Thistle proud of me, Smokey vowed, I'll learn these cats' rules and live by them like she'd want me to. I have no one now except myself and this Clan.

"I'll see you afterwards, Smokey!" Webpaw called and then darted off to sit next to a familiar calico cat with green eyes.

Must be Heathersong, thought Smokey absently, glancing around at the cats.

Suddenly, Fallenstar got to his feet, nudged Smokey gently and cleared his throat loudly. Almost instantly, the cluster of cats became silent. Smokey could see Webpaw, sitting with Heathersong and an orange tabby she-cat.

"Cats of WindClan," started Fallenstar, his eyes flicking around the camp, "I would like you to meet Smokey, a loner who was, until recently, living on ShadowClan territory. But yesterday ShadowClan chased Smokey and his sister out of their home. This resulted in Smokey's sister's death."

Smokey's stomach clenched as a bubble of hatred expanded in his throat.

The cats standing around Flatrock looked dubious and hostile. Smokey eyed an old tabby tom and a younger, black-furred cat whispering together. He realized that the black she-cat was the cat from yesterday: the one who wanted to leave Smokey by the side of the road. Smokey recalled her name: Ravenwing. The old tomcat looked unfamiliar.

"We need more strong cats. Smokey is brave and fast. He is used to living in the wilderness; he is no kittypet. He can hunt and fight. I believe that he will make a good warrior," Fallenstar said.

"We don't need or want any loners in WindClan!" shouted the old tom. His voice was scratchy and deep.

"We need more warriors, Oatfield. And this cat is without a home," Fallenstar protested.

"Bah! He'll never be a warrior. He won't learn anything," Oatfield spat, glaring at Smokey.

Smokey held the elder's gaze steadily. He had a feeling that this cat too, was used to authority.

"How do you know he's loyal?" asked Ravenwing haughtily, "He'll probably just turn around and betray all our secrets to ShadowClan!"

Smokey suddenly hissed at the she-cat, his black fur standing up straight. Ravenwing and Oatfield looked at Smokey, surprised by his reaction.

"Those flea-bags killed my sister," snarled Smokey, his tail lashing around, "I would never help them. Part of the reason I'm joining your Clan is to get revenge on them!"

Ravenwing sat down slowly. She looked like she was unwillingly impressed by Smokey's announcement.

"I promise to you all that I would never betray a family member and if I join WindClan I will view you all as part of my family," continued Smokey, quieter this time. "I don't expect you to trust or like me, but at least give me a chance."

Fallenstar looked triumphantly around at the cats in the clearing.

"Are we all satisfied?" he asked, "Does anyone else want to question my judgement?"

Ravenwing and Oatfield immediately looked abashed. The black she-cat dipped her head at Fallenstar, embarrassed and Oatfield blinked apologetically at Smokey.

"Good," Fallenstar said. "Smokey, from this day forward, until you receive your warrior name, you shall be known as Smokepaw."

Smokepaw mouthed his new name, letting it roll around on his tongue. He was glad that Fallenstar had kept part of his old name. At least he wasn't changing his entire name completely.

"Goldeye, you are ready for an apprentice. You will be Smokepaw's mentor," Fallenstar proclaimed.

A gray tabby tom whose amber eyes were sparkling with interest approached Flatrock; his paws expertly climbing up the surface of the boulder. Smokepaw watched him warily and when Goldeye quietly cleared his throat and looked expectantly at Smokepaw, he remembered what Fallenstar had instructed him to do. The black tom inched upward and touched noses with his new mentor. Goldeye gave him a small smile and then backed up a few steps.

"Smokepaw! Smokepaw!" a familiar voice cheered from the crowd of cats.

Smokepaw glanced around and spotted Webpaw, his thin tail waving with excitement, chanting his name. Smokepaw couldn't help smiling faintly at his new friend. He watched as the other WindClan cats eventually took up the apprentice's cries and unwillingly began to acknowledge Smokepaw's existence in the Clan. Fallenstar nodded to Smokepaw and Goldeye who both jumped down from Flatrock as the mass of cats began to break up. Smokepaw eyed Ravenwing and Oatfield trotting off to their respective dens, both looking a little put out. Before he could contemplate telling them off again, a ball of fur crashed into him, meowing.

"Smokepaw! Great name, huh? C'mon I'll show you where we apprentice's sleep!" Webpaw exclaimed, climbing to his feet.

Smokepaw found himself beaming broadly at Webpaw; he had never felt so welcomed by a cat before. He looked up at his mentor, trying hard to act polite and respectful.

"Can I go with Webpaw?" he asked civilly.

Goldeye looked amused and impressed. "Certainly. You should see where you'll be spending your time. We'll start training tomorrow so meet me in the front of the camp at dawn," he said fairly.

Smokepaw nodded his agreement and understanding and then followed Webpaw across the sandy ground. The dark gray tom padded off towards the tangle of gorse surrounding the camp, his white paws delicately stepping over small rocks and twigs. Smokepaw trailed after him, glancing back at Goldeye.

I hope this whole thing works out alright, Smokepaw thought, I really do want to fit in here. I need to make this okay. It's my only chance.


	7. Chapter 5: The Introductions

**Short chapter this time, sorry. -**

**Chapter 5: The Introductions **

"We sleep here," Webpaw said, nodding at a lone bush sitting by the side of the sandy hollow. Smokepaw and Webpaw approached the bush, whose leaves were dry and branches were prickly.

"There's a small space underneath the branches where we sleep. We're right by Outlook Rock too," Webpaw said distractedly, dipping his head so he could pass under the bush's sticks and leaves.

"What's Outlook Rock?" inquired Smokepaw.

"Oh right. It's a huge boulder just outside of camp. If a cat stands on it, they can see everything in our territory. It's great, we're never ambushed!" Webpaw said, "Apprentices have to watch WindClan's land from Outlook Rock to make sure there are no intruders. We each get a different time of day. I'm dawn and Bamboopaw is sunhigh and I think Cherrypaw is afternoon. So you'll probably be sundown. Breezepaw is lucky, he doesn't have to take a watch because he's training to be a medicine cat."

Smokepaw took all this information in, processing it quickly. He realized he had a lot to learn. He didn't know the first thing about these cats' way of life.

"So this is the apprentice's den?" Smokepaw said conversationally, stepping into the cool shade of the bush and staring around.

"Yep."

Bundles of moss lined the den, blocking out the frigid coldness. Piles of leaves marked where each apprentice slept. It was a plain den but it was functional. Smokepaw could just see the darkening sky outside through the branches. He shivered slightly; night was bringing a fierce chill.

Webpaw must have spotted Smokepaw's shiver because he said, "Leafbare is coming soon. We only have a few days left of leaf-fall. I hope we're prepared for the freezing moons ahead."

At that moment, three cats entered the den. Smokepaw recognized the orange she-cat that was sitting with Webpaw. The other two were unfamiliar.

"Hey look Cherrypaw," the tan she-cat with a white tail said, "it's the loser loner who decided to parade into our Clan and join it."

Smokepaw stared at the she-cat, perplexed by her hostility. Hadn't he explained himself during the ceremony?

"Just because your sister died on the Thunderpath, doesn't mean you have the right to join our Clan," the tan cat continued.

"Oh shut up Bamboopaw," Webpaw said cheerfully, whacking her across the face.

Bamboopaw hissed in anger and pain and lunged at Webpaw. While the two apprentices tussled and scratched at each other on the floor, a white tom with black spots on his tail sheepishly smiled at Smokepaw.

"I'm Breezepaw," he said, "and this is Cherrypaw. The furball on the floor is Bamboopaw."

"Hi," Smokepaw replied awkwardly, "so you guys don't hate me?"

Cherrypaw smiled at him. Smokepaw noted the bright, intense green of her eyes.

"I don't hate you. I don't even know you yet. Welcome to WindClan," Cherrypaw said simply.

Webpaw struggled to his feet, throwing a spitting Bamboopaw on to the ground. The she-cat stiffly got up, glared at Smokepaw and then curled up into a ball on a stack of leaves in the corner.

"Don't mind her," Webpaw said, licking his dark fur, "she doesn't like any cats."

Bamboopaw grunted angrily from the corner. Smokepaw couldn't help smiling. Webpaw reminded him of Thistle.

"You should get some sleep," advised Breezepaw, taking his place on the pile of leaves, "you'll want to be in top shape tomorrow if you're going to be training."

Cherrypaw nodded and then she too, settled down on the soft ground, next to Breezepaw. Smokepaw thought that Breezepaw was right. He wanted to show WindClan that he was a good addition to their ranks. He hesitantly lay down by a free space near the entrance of the den and when nobody protested, Smokepaw carefully wrapped his black tail around his paws, smoothed down his fur with his tongue and then swiftly dropped off into a deep sleep.


	8. Chapter 6: A Troublesome Rabbit

**This will be the last chapter I write for ****Soaring Smoke**** for a while because school is coming up and I have not gotten any reviews on this story so far. So if you do read this story, please please PLEASE review it and I'll consider writing more. If you love it: tell me. If you hate it: tell me. If you've got suggestions: tell me. Comments? Questions? Advice? TELL MEE!!!**

**It's annoying to see that this story has gotten 87 hits but no reviews. Pul-lease review. Or else I shall sic Smokepaw on you. And that cat's got a lot of pent up rage.**

**Thanks. P**

**Chapter 6: A Troublesome Rabbit **

"Hey! Hey furball! Get up! Smokepaw, let's go!"

Smokepaw rolled over on to his stomach, groaning. He batted the paws that were prodding him away.

"Not now Thistle, I'm still sleeping," he murmured.

There was an awkward silence and then the voice continued. "I'm not Thistle. It's me, Webpaw."

Smokepaw's eyes snapped open. He was lying on the ground, his tail curled around his nose. He scrambled to his feet, noting the cold ache in his bones and joints. He realized he'd slept on the freezing floor of the den without a bed of leaves or moss to lie on. Smokepaw's back felt stiff and his eyes were still cloudy with sleep.

"Oh, hi, sorry Webpaw," Smokepaw said sheepishly, "I, um, forgot."

The gray tabby was poking his head in through the entrance of the den, his face masked with concern.

"Smokepaw, it's okay. I'm sorry about your sister. I know it's not easy for you," Webpaw said clumsily, "I don't know what I would do if Cherrypaw died."

"She's your sister?" asked Smokepaw, dying to change the subject. He wanted to keep Thistle out of his mind.

Webpaw nodded happily. He too, seemed happy with the subject change. "Well, she's my half-sister. My mother is Juniperpelt," Webpaw explained. Then he lowered his voice, "Cherrypaw's mother was a rogue. We don't talk about her."

Smokepaw followed Webpaw out of the den and let the cool morning sun hit his pelt and face with welcome. The WindClan camp was bustling with cats, all going about their business. Smokepaw had never seen such activity before. He spotted Breezepaw and Cottonsky trotting towards the bracken wall of the camp, both of them chatting animatedly. He spotted Bamboopaw and Cherrypaw standing next to a black and white tom and Puddledrop. Webpaw noticed Smokepaw's glance and said, "That's Brackenface and you know Puddledrop. They're Cherrypaw's and Bamboopaw's mentors."

"Who did you say your father was?" asked Smokepaw.

"I didn't," replied Webpaw, "It's Goldeye."

"Goldeye?" Smokepaw said, "But he's my-"

"Mentor, I know."

The two apprentices were now padding across the clearing towards a small pile of prey by a dead bush. Smokepaw didn't really know where he was going; he was just following Webpaw.

"Is he...nice?" inquired Smokepaw tentatively.

"Oh sure," Webpaw said indifferently, "he'll love you. He likes cats that are different. He thinks they're better than the rest. He's a good teacher, or so I'm told."

There was a strange twinge in Webpaw's voice. Smokepaw thought it was regret but there was a hint of bitterness in it too. He decided to drop the topic and directed his attention towards the pile of meat.

"So, what is this?" he said, sniffing around at the prey to see if it was freshly caught.

"This is the fresh-kill pile," Webpaw said, "when we go hunting, we bring back food for the Clan. This is where the prey goes."

Webpaw bent down and selected a plump sparrow from the pile.

"Take something," Webpaw invited, "you've got to eat before we go out training today. I forgot to tell you but Heathersong said that I could come training with you on your first day! Goldeye already agreed."

Smokepaw nodded happily and then picked out a large rabbit from the medley of prey. He caught Webpaw giving him a curious look. Smokepaw was about ask the gray apprentice what the matter was when a sharp voice cut through the sandy hollow.

"Look at this! The loner is in our Clan for a day and he's already acting like a greedy kittypet."

Smokepaw placed the rabbit down on the ground and whirled, his claws automatically sliding out. He suddenly realized that without Thistle to worry about, he was a lot more reckless and much more willing to fight. Smokepaw hurriedly retracted his claws before anyone saw them and got suspicious.

A brown tabby tom was briskly walking towards the two apprentices, his paws splashed with white and his amber eyes narrowed in dislike. Smokepaw sighed. Why were all these cats challenging him when he clearly expressed his goodwill yesterday?

"That's Whitefoot, nasty temper, don't provoke him," Webpaw whispered swiftly under his breath.

Whitefoot stomped up to Smokepaw, barely glancing at Webpaw. He glared at the black tom and hissed when he saw the size of the rabbit at Smokepaw's feet.

"Tell me, _Smokepaw, _did you catch that rabbit?" Whitefoot spat.

Smokepaw looked confused. "No, I didn't. Webpaw said I should take something from the pile and I did."

"Well did it ever occur to you that maybe some other, more deserving cat should get to have the biggest prey in the pile?" Whitefoot snarled.

The tom's loud voice was carrying over the clearing and cats were stepping out of their dens to see what the commotion was. Smokepaw spotted Oatfield and Ravenwing rushing over, their faces alight with malice and mistrust.

"No it didn't," Smokepaw replied, turning his attention back to Whitefoot.

"Listen you piece of mouse dung," Whitefoot hissed, "I don't care if you're new. It's common sense. The biggest piece of prey does NOT go to an apprentice. Especially not one that's a filthy little loner!"

"Whitefoot! Please!" cried Webpaw, his fur puffed up in defiance and fright, "He didn't know. I'm trying to teach him!"

"That's his mentor's job, fool," Whitefoot said, brushing off Webpaw.

"I told you he was bad news!" shouted Oatfield.

Smokepaw felt a growl rising in his throat. "You can have the stupid rabbit," Smokepaw said loudly, throwing the prey at Whitefoot, "I'm not so pathetic that I have to whine about fresh-kill."

Besides him, Webpaw gave a little moan of fear. Whitefoot drew himself up to his full height, clearly offended.

"Oh you asked for this beating, kitty," he said as he stepped forward, his claws outstretched.

Smokepaw calmly slid his own claws out and crouched low to the ground, ready to defend himself.

Without warning, a blur of tabby gray fur inserted itself between Whitefoot and Smokepaw. At first Smokepaw thought it was Webpaw but he soon realized it was his mentor, Goldeye. The warrior glared at Whitefoot.

"You are NOT allowed to rip apart my apprentice," Goldeye said firmly, "leave him alone."

Whitefoot looked torn. He obviously had no intention of fighting Goldeye, who was much bigger than the brown tabby.

"Just tell that little furball to stay out of my way," Whitefoot huffed, stalking off.

Goldeye turned his piercing glare upon the cats loitering around the hollow, watching the scene unfold. At Goldeye's glance, they scattered, going back to their business.

"Thank you," Smokepaw said quietly when everyone had left.

Goldeye looked him over carefully. "Why'd you pick that piece of fresh-kill?" he asked.

Smokepaw was surprised. "I-I don't know. I guess because I'm used to living in the wild where food is scare. I would never pass by a large piece of prey," he answered.

"I see," Goldeye nodded, "well you're not in the wild anymore. You're in a Clan. You belong to a structured, organized group of cats. The first rule to fitting in here is to be selfless."

Smokepaw quickly nodded his understanding. "I see now that I shouldn't have taken that rabbit."

"You also shouldn't have thrown it," Goldeye reprimanded, "you must show respect for prey. They were once living creatures like us."

Smokepaw bowed his head shamefully and murmured an apology. He looked to his side; Webpaw was silently slinking off towards where Heathersong was sitting, watching him.

"I understand this is hard for you," Goldeye said, his voice getting a little softer, "but you must try to not offend anyone. It's very important that your Clan members trust you."

"I understand."

"Good. Now why don't you go take that rabbit to Juniperpelt?" Goldeye suggested.

Smokepaw looked surprised but knelt down and picked up the rabbit with his teeth gently.

"Part of an apprentice's duty is to take care of the elders," explained Goldeye, noting his apprentice's confusion. "The elder's den is by that bush. When you've finished with that, meet me at the entrance. I'll be waiting with Heathersong and Webpaw. Then we will train."

Smokepaw smiled, abashed, through the mouthful of rabbit fur and then padded over to where the elder's den was, a cloud of humiliation hanging over his head. 


End file.
